Getting noticed by Magnus Bane
by Blue eyed fantasies
Summary: Getting noticed by Magnus Bane is a feat in itself. But holding his attention is an impossibility. No-one ever has. The lovers flit in and out of his life like shooting stars - momentary bursts of brilliance. They are over before they even begin, gone in the blink of an eye. But can someone change his mind, burn forever brightly in the sky? Or will they fizzle out, like the rest?
1. Magnus freaking Bane

**Should I be starting another multi-chaptered fic? No. Do I care? No. I was in the shower and..well, all great ideas come to me in The Shower. I'm not sure if this was necessarily one of them but...it's been bothering me all day so I thought I'd write it down. It's short, maybe a little rushed, just testing the waters. It's AU/AH and Alec wil be about 19/20. Please review and tell me what you think. :)**

**I do not own the Mortal Instruments or any of the characters.**

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**Chapter 1 - Magnus freaking Bane**

"Alec, it's _Magnus_ freaking _Bane_!" She batted her long black eyelashes so that they fluttered softly against her pale cheeks. "If you don't have a good time at one of his parties, then you're, like a...an alien or something." Alec met her bright, emerald eyes which were looking at him pleadingly and rolled his own. He didn't see what the big deal about this Magnus freaking Bane was. He'd never heard of the guy. However, Alec had been accused of living under a rock several times. He much preferred reading books to magazines so found himself somewhat lacking in his knowledge of the glitzy world of parties and popularity.

"I don't know Cam... I have a lot of studying to do and..."

Camille interrupted him. "That's all you ever fucking do! Jesus Alec, you need to loosen up. Live a little." Camille tossed her long blonde hair behind her head irritably, glaring down at the cash register beneath her as she scrambled for yet another customer's change and handing it back to her with a snarl. It was some freckly little red head who snorted rudely before stalking off. Camille didn't care though. When did she ever give two shits about this job?

Alec huffed, dealing with his own customer before turning back to Camille. "Why do I even need to be there? This Magnus freaking Bane person sounds like loads of fun. Maybe you can...I dunno, get with him or something?" he mumbled, trying to avert the attention from himself. Alec didn't like parties, end of. Camille knew this. Yet she still tried to convince him to go every time. He usually was convinced as well. He never did anything exciting like she did - just stood in the corner awkwardly with a glass of coke, occasionally offering a smile of encouragement to Camille whilst she danced seductively with all the men on the dance floor.

The blonde stifled the hurt that flashed quickly through her eyes at this statement. Alec made it sound like she slept with everything with legs. _You do_, a poisonous voice hissed in her mind. That was true. But still, he made it seem like she _wanted_ to sleep with everybody. She didn't. Well, it wasn't her main aim in life, more of a passing amusement. It could only keep her amused for so long though. Camille had bigger fish to fry. She liked to think that she had ambitions, that she wouldn't be stuck working in Superdrug for lousy money her entire life. And not only that, she liked to think that one day she would achieve her one true goal in life...

"Tempting..." Camille pretended to contemplate the idea for a moment, teasing Alec. She supposed she could possibly end up in bed with Magnus, if she wore a skirt short enough. It wasn't what she wanted, what she _needed_ though.

Her voice softened. "Look, I'm just trying to help you forget Alec. It'll help you get over..." she broke off. They still hadn't talked about it yet and it was clear by the way Alec stiffened, his features hardening, that he wasn't ready to talk about it either. The only signs of his hurt were the way his teeth bit his distressed lip and his eyes glinted painfully, displaying his bruised and battered inside for a brief flash. He bent his head slightly, a strand of black hair falling to conceal his face.

Camille wished she could take back the brash words, quickly saying something else to diffuse the tension. "You don't have to come." She fiddled with the overly cheerful name tag pinned to her tight black shirt for a moment. "There will be alcohol." She was joking. Alec didn't often drink. When he did, it often had disastrous and/or hilarious consequences. Overall, he was very responsible and serious though - a dedicated university student. She knew alcohol would not entice Alec and Camille was beginning to accept the fact that she would most likely be attending this party alone. Still, she continued - only half serious. "You'll get the chance to meet a real live celebrity - possibly many."

Alec furrowed his eyebrows. "Magnus Bane is a celebrity? What does he do? Sing? Dance? Act?"

Camille laughed. "Oh mon cheri," she purred, allowing her French accent to slip in and ruffling his hair affectionately. It was soft, brushing against her fingers like fine silk. "You know hardly anything. He doesn't need to do anything. He's Magnus freaking Bane. And he throws parties that are the shit. Hell, Magnus Bane is the shit."

Alec glanced at her worriedly. "Are you slightly obsessed with him? You sound like you're worshipping him."

Camille laughed lightly. "Everyone's obsessed with him. You will be too, when you meet him. I would be surprised if within two seconds of meeting him you weren't worshipping his feet."

Alec snorted, raising his eyebrows. "Ew I hate feet," he scrunched up his nose adorably and Camille giggled, ruffling his hair again - mainly just to feel those soft, silky strands and to see the way he arched his neck like a cat again. So cute.

"That's presuming I'm going to meet him. I haven't said that I'm going yet." The black haired boy stubbornly crossed his arms, pouting, and Camille sighed. If Alec wasn't there, she knew she wouldn't enjoy the party. And Camille had worked so God damn hard to be invited to this party. It was difficult, getting noticed in the world of the rich and luxurious when you weren't either of those things yourself. Charm and looks could only get you so far. To be noticed you had to literally shine. Especially to be noticed by the notorious Magnus Bane. And everyone knew all too well that it was even more difficult holding his attention - virtually impossible. This would most likely be the only party of Bane's that she would be allowed to attend and she damn well wanted to make the most of it, spending it with someone she actually liked: Alec.

She wasn't quite sure exactly what she liked in Alec...Maybe his sweet, loyal nature. He was shy. The complete opposite to her, in fact. She was confident, sexy and, sometimes, cool on the exterior. Yes, that was why they went so well together. Sweet and sour. They complimented each other perfectly, smoothing over each other's rough edges, compensating for their flaws. Completely at odds and yet wholly perfect.

"Excuse me." A tall boy with shaggy blonde hair came up to the till. His hand was intertwined with the smooth, coffee coloured hand of a slightly shorter girl. Her dark, auburn hair tumbled down her back in crazy curls and her cheeks glowed with an embarrassed pink glow. Camille immediately knew what they wanted. She had been in that situation one too many times in high school. The mischievous blonde held back a grin as she saw them preparing to ask Alec. She knew how to use this to her advantage.

"Um, could you please, um, show us, um where the um, the... c-condoms are," the boy's cheeks immediately flared up to match the girl's and they sheepishly looked at the ground.

Camille couldn't help but laugh when she saw Alec's mortified expression. He was blushing even more than the teenager, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Go with me to the party and I'll serve them," Camille whispered in his ear after revelling in the awkward stances for just a few more tenuous seconds.

Alec looked like he might protest, opening his mouth, but Camille just shot him a look saying, _as if you weren't going to come anyway. _She would have damn well forced him.

And Alec knew that she was right. The little devil always got her way. He sighed, scooting aside and accepting his fate. The lengths he would go to to avoid awkward situations like this. Camille didn't even bat an eyelid.

She smiled radiantly in superiority. "Right this way," she said, stepping out from behind the counter before shooting a victory glance one last time at Alec.

He scowled. _Outfoxed again._


	2. Doomed to a life of nice

**First of all, thank you to those who reviewed, faved and followed this story so far. :D Keep it up. :)**

**This one's a shortie, sorry but for some reason this chapter took me ages to write and I don't think I'll ever be happy with it. I'm never happy with my writing before I publish it though so just ignore me. :/ Anyway, my stories often start off short and the word count gradually picks up towards the end. It should get better. This is set a few hours after the last chapter. Thoughts and memories are _italicised_ and text messages are in bold. You'll see. :)**

**I don't own it. Can I just make that permanent and not bother in the next chapters? I'm lazy and I think we all get the gist of it. I'm not miraculously going to own TMI. If I do manage to steal it from Cassie Clare, I'll let you all know.**

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**Chapter 2 - Doomed to a life of nice**

Alec eyed the black pencil contemptuously, as if it were the source of all evil in the world. To him, it was. It was easy to blame this small, black pencil; to claim it was the root of all his problems.

Because the truth was that he liked it, a little more than he'd care to admit.

"No." He shook his head so that the unruly black strands fell into his eyes.

In fact, on specific people, eyeliner was an instant turn on for him. Specific meaning not himself. He personally thought that he looked like a panda in it, a confused, kicked panda. For a smart guy, he looked confused a lot though, so that was nothing new.

"Aleeeeec," Camille whined. She jerked the black eyeliner pencil closer to his face and he flinched, trying to shuffle away from the deadly implement of torture.

"It's too girly." Alec crossed his arms. Correction: a confused, kicked, very _feminine_ panda.

"It's not!" Camille exclaimed indignantly. "Loads of straight guys wear guyliner. Hence the reason it's called _guy_liner."

Alec swallowed tried back his unease at the word straight.

_Because I would be lying if I said I was ... I'm always lying._

His phone buzzed in his jean pocket and he quickly scrambled for it, hoping that it would be a distraction from that particular issue that was always at the back of his mind...

**I miss you. :( xxx**

Or not.

Alec sighed, quickly tapping out a reply before Camille would ask about it. She didn't know. Alec presumed so anyway. They had never discussed it. Camille had just assumed that he would be straight and, to be honest, he had as well.

That was until he kissed a girl.

Big mistake.

_Because you didn't like it did you?_ Those soft, pink, lipstick covered lips. They weren't exactly _repulsive_. But they weren't what he wanted, what he _needed_. Not too soft. He didn't like it too soft, maybe a little rough, a little forceful. Maybe a piercing or two...

_Oh God, stop thinking about it you twat. It's never going to happen,_ he scolded himself as his jeans became suddenly a little tighter and he shifted uncomfortably, praying that Camille didn't notice. _Think of old Mr. Starkweather. _Luckily, at that moment she flicked off the lights, claiming that her 'favourite part' was coming up. Alec rolled his eyes as that. She must have said it about 12 times in the film.

There was now only the glow of the TV and his phone, displaying his unsent text message.

**Miss you too.**

No kisses. Alec wasn't the type to put kisses. He found them rather silly actually. After all, what was the point? It was just the letter 'x', not a proper substitute for the real thing which, to be honest, he hadn't actually felt. Sure, he'd been kissed. But he'd never felt _it -_ whatever you were meant to feel, whatever everyone always said it felt like. One day he would...

Wouldn't he? Sometimes, he couldn't help thinking though, _what if this is it_? Too soft, too sweet, lukewarm lips pressed against his own. It was...nice. Always just nice. Was he doomed to a life of _nice_?

Either way, he had tried his damnedest to avoid any form of those soft lips ever since. He immersed himself in school work, declined offers of going out, became secluded, closed off. He had lost a lot of friends in the process actually.

_"Oh, that Alec Lightwood's no fun any more. Uptight little virgin and a boring old bookworm." _

Sure, it was in his nature to be responsible. He had always been one of those middle aged teenagers and could quite easily imagine himself living alone with 19 cats at the tender age of 25. Alec liked cats and books. He wore slippers, in fact - little tartan ones that old men wore. But that wasn't the entire reason he was so closed off. And when Alec thought about it, he had denied himself a lot of fun, a lot of experiences, a _life_ really, to avoid the truth. The truth that was always seemed to be lurking in the shadows. Always.

The truth that lay hidden amongst all of the manly, heavy metal music on his iPod in the form of Taylor Swift and Carly Rae Jephsen songs. He liked to sing them in the shower, where he felt alone and secluded, where he felt he could do anything, _be_ anyone.

The truth that on those nights where Camille was out he liked to watch romantic films like Love Actually and dream that maybe one day he would be romantically pursued in the airport by some handsome hero. (The closest he'd come was Anna Morrisey claiming that she had a crush on him in the supermarket. Not quite the same thing. Especially since she claimed it was a dare afterwards.)

The truth that he liked boys was more than he should. _Liked_ them liked them.

**Wanna go on a date tonight? Taki's? I'll lay. :) xxx**

Camille had stopped trying to set him up with her friends years ago though, so Alec presumed she had her suspicions. However, it could also be due to the fact that Alec was extremely awkward. She constantly called him "socially inept." It was true. Alec was the epitome of awkward. Shy, bad at conversation and to top it all off weighed down by that part of himself that he could never show.

"Alec?" Camille waved her professionally manicured nails in front of his face. He blinked dazedly. She shook her head. "You get more socially inept by the day." _That's 5 times she'd called me that today._ The record was 23 times. Camille liked to use big, fancy words. Too bad she didn't know many.

Alec rolled his eyes before turning back to his phone. **Lay?**

It immediately buzzed. **Sorry, *pay*. :P Although, I wouldn't mind if you want to lay.. ;)** Alec blushed profusely, resisting the urge to face palm at the suggestive text. Naturally, this immediately provoked Camille's curiosity.

"Who are you texting?" she asked, raising her carefully pruned eyebrows.

"No-one," Alec lied, quickly shoving his phone in his pocket.

Camille sighed, not buying it for a minute, but decided to let it go. After all, she was always moaning about how Alec moped about their apartment all day by himself. It was...good that he was finding new friends. Wasn't it? She wasn't going to worry about it now, not if it meant missing the end of Twilight.

Camille had a strange obsession with Twilight. She had so far made Alec watch it 33 times, which he had grumbled about. A lot. He often wondered whether it was the vampire part that attracted her or Robert Pattinson (she claimed she was Team Edward and Alec had to bite his tongue to prevent him from arguing the assets of Jacob. That would reveal too much about what other _team_ he played for.)

Currently, they were lazing about on the sofa, Camille's legs up on Alec's lap, a blanket over them and a near empty bowl of popcorn haphazardly perched on the edge of the seat.

They'd drawn the curtains so that it was dark which meant that Alec would most likely fall over something later on. Their hands were sticky, there was probably going to be huge mess from the popcorn fight they'd had earlier on and Alec found that he could actually recite the lines from the film in perfect monotone.

But he wouldn't want it any other way.

**Sorry, can't make it. Maybe on Monday night?**

In fact, all too soon the closing credits were rolling onto the screen and Camille turned towards him, her eyes lit up with the eerie glow from the telly. Alec was a little scared. They were almost manic in their excitement, the emerald green almost completely swallowed up by the black pupil. It could mean only one thing. Good things always come to an end and Alec was starting to accept that there was absolutely no way they would be able to stay in their cozy little cocoon all night. Not when there were parties to go to. _Damn_.

"Come on, mon cheri, we have work to do," Camille said in a happy, sing-song voice. Alec sunk back into the sofa, groaning at the prospect of going to a party. This only spurred Camille on though and she reached towards him, yanking him up to his feet and pulling him in the direction of her bedroom.

"I have your clothes all ready for you!" she said excitedly. Alec groaned, nearly tripping over a stray remote. She walked ahead of him, throwing the red door to her bedroom open dramatically. "And then we can continue with your makeup."

"You can _try_," muttered Alec.

"What was that?" Camille stuck her head around the door.

"Nothing." Alec smiled sweetly.

**Oh, that's ok. Monday it is then. :) xxx** Alec sighed, trying to dredge up at least a little excitement for his 'date' on Monday. _Who goes on a fucking date on a Monday anyway?_

_Apparently, I do._

Camille ushered him into her bedroom hastily and Alec sighed, putting his phone away and trying to forget about it.

It was going to be a long night.

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**I'm not actually a huge fan of Twilight. It's just for the vampire connection. See what I did there? Yeah...just wanted to clarify that. ;) **


	3. Cat man

**Ok this one's a little rushed and disjointed. Sorry. :( It's mainly because I've been so busy and I just wanted to post it before I go to New York. :) **

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**Chapter 3 - Cat man**

Magnus sighed a little, his hands gripping the cold iron railing tightly as he felt a pair of noodle like arms wrap possessively around his waist. "What are you thinking about?" a soft voice whispered in his ear sending prickles down his neck. Magnus wasn't sure whether he liked the prickles or not. He swivelled round to face the owner of said arms, smirking slightly. It didn't reach his eyes.

They seemed to notice this sudden melancholy attitude. "What's wrong?" Some lips surged up to meet his own. Magnus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He'd done this so many times before. It got old.

Still, he played along. "There's no stars," he purred back. And it was true. The night was as it always was, filled with the smog and the noise and the lights of the city. Not a glistening star in sight. There were plenty of helicopters though. Magnus seemed to fall for that trick every time. He would think _finally, a star._ Then it would move and flash red and it would all be over, his illusion of fantasy and beauty gone with one effortless flick of cruelty's finger. It was dumb and Magnus knew that. For some reason, he couldn't stop this fruitless hoping though, no matter how much disappointment he faced. Because his dream was to look up into a big, old empty sky and see the stars with nothing there to get in the way.

So far, that dream hadn't come true.

"I'll make you see stars baby," and Magnus struggled to hold back a sad sigh as some wet lips attacked his yet again, only this time more fervently. This wasn't what he meant. Not at all. He didn't want their stupid stars. They weren't real. And Magnus Bane had never felt these supposed stars. He _said_ he had because he was Magnus Bane, the boaster. And he returned the sloppy kiss because, well, there wasn't much else to do. One day he would feel the metaphorical stars that were so alluded to though.

Besides, it wasn't like the real stars were ever actually going to come out.

But he hoped because he also happened to be Magnus Bane, the hoper.

"Come on, let's go get the party set up," Magnus said, disentangling his lips.

"But we've got plenty of time to..."

Magnus placed a finger to their lips, cutting off their protests. "I'm nothing if not organised."

Magnus Bane claimed to be many things. Whether they were true or not was yet to be proven to everyone; himself included.

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"Alec if you touch your hair one more time, I will fucking kill you," Camille threatened as she flurried past him and Alec quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks glowing. She was dressed in only a very small white towel - small being the operative word. Things could quite clearly be...seen through the floor length mirror that he was standing in front of.

The mirror pretty much dominated the whole room, surrounded with a red feather boa, interlinked with the occasional fairy light - an obvious fire hazard that Alec dared not mention for fear of being called a 'paranoid pussy'. Hanging precariously from the top of the elaborate mirror was a pair of furry handcuffs and matching leather whip. Alec was trying increasingly harder to avoid staring at them. They looked kind of...scary. He wondered how the hell they were meant to be sexy. He couldn't imagine himself ever using them, quickly diverting his eyes to his own reflection at the mere thought of it. As he stared, he took in the out of place plainness that was himself. Black, black and more black - except this time, with gel.

"It's all...messy," mumbled Alec as he fingered a strand of his purposefully unruly hair uncertainly.

Camille sighed before marching over to him and slapping his hand away angrily. "Leave. It," she hissed. "It looks nice, gives you that 'just fucked' look." She winked at him in the mirror as he spluttered before flouncing away back into her humongous wardrobe.

Alec tried to fan his overheating cheeks. He sighed in frustration, wondering if he would always be the blushing virgin. _Well, yes until you get laid dumbass_, he thought angrily. Twenty years old and still not laid - a young twenty but still... Alec tentatively flicked his gaze up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. So innocent. Untouched, completely at odds with the bold black eyeliner that had been forcefully applied. It had taken almost an hour, making them late. Already. It was better to be late for these things though, wasn't it? Alec wasn't entirely sure. He tried to remember the last party he'd actually enjoyed where Camille hadn't had to force him to go. After a few moments, he remembered. He had been 9 and ice cream and jelly had been involved. Somehow, he doubted Magnus Bane's party would involve such an innocent game of pass the parcel...

"Alec darling, are you in there?" asked Camille, waving a hand in front of his face. She had to do this often, Alec was forever drifting into some far away place in his head. _It must be nice_, thought Camille - who had the imagination of a goldfish (and the memory of one too).

Alec nodded numbly. "Let's go then!" Camille said, a little impatiently as she practically pushed him out of their shared apartment. It was only when they got into the cab that Alec had a chance to see what Camille was actually wearing - or not. His eyes bugged out almost comically as he stuttered "A-are you seriously wearing...that?"

Camille smirked devilishly, looking down at what she was wearing, a practically see-through, lacy black ensemble accompanied with sky high heels and her usual ruby pendant. She was often asked why she wore it since it seemed very incongruous with the rest of her outfit. She had her reasons though, which nobody needed to know.

"Yes Alexander. Do you have a problem with that?" It was actually relatively modest compared to some of her other outfits. Alec didn't answer though and Camille rolled her eyes "Would you rather me wear a fucking nun's habit?" she asked sarcastically. _Hmmm, he probably would..._

She heard a muffled sound which sounded distinctly like a yes. "Tough, it's too late now. We're almost there and if we go back...well, then we'd miss the party," she said in a sing-song voice.

"And wouldn't that be _such_ a shame?" muttered Alec. Camille reached out to whack him on the back of the head. There was a lot of violence in their relationship. Strangely enough, it was all one sided.

"I'll just have to, I dunno, stand in front of you like a human barrier or something for the whole night," Alec said, glaring at her a little and rubbing his bashed head.

Camille laughed, trying to ignore the thoughts that popped into her head of Alec being a 'human barrier'. Biting her tongue, she vowed that she would at least try and stay with Alec for some of the party. "Stop getting all maternal on me Alec," was all she said instead.

He huffed, mumbling something about 'resenting being compared to a woman'.

Just then the taxi swerved violently to the right, sending Camille flying into Alec's arms.  
"Sorry! Wrong turn!" shouted the taxi driver.

"Asshole," muttered Camille, who hadn't moved. It was dark but she could see Alec's eyes looking down at her, a curious expression in them - one she couldn't quite put her finger on. His arms did not relinquish their grip for a few more tenuous seconds. Then he awkwardly coughed and quite unceremoniously shoved her away, or so it felt to Camille.

She brushed it off, huffing and muttering something about her hair being 'completely ruined'. Alec scoffed, eyeing her perfectly styled ringlets dubiously.

The taxi came to an abrupt stop and both passengers were jolted forward abruptly again. The cabbie looked back at them expectantly. Camille tossed him the money contemptuously before flipping him the bird and getting out.

"Was that really necessary?" asked Alec, once they were standing outside on the pavement, looking up at the almost foreboding apartment block looming in front of him. He was never really one for anger or unnecessary violence, always the more levelheaded of the two. In fact, Camille had never heard him shout or raise his voice. He was never anything but calm and collected. He didn't often smile, or laugh for that matter. When he did, it was carefully controlled around others although once she'd made him laugh so much he'd squirted coke out of his nose. She was quite proud that she could make Alec laugh. Smiles were a rare occurrence now though, laughing an endangered species and Camille just wished that he would have some more fun, relax a little. Just once. Then, maybe he'd see what he was missing...

"Completely," replied Camille before taking his hand and dragging him along after her. If Alec didn't know any better, he would say she was angry. _But then, Camille always has anger issues_...Alec sort of snorted to himself, stopping abruptly when Camille tossed him a weird look. He searched for their invitations in his pocket to give to the tough looking bouncer who actually looked more wolf than man. He grunted and Alec and Camille quickly skittered away.

"I think this will be good for you," she said, patting his back as she led him up a flight of stairs. "See some real people that aren't, you know, dead and printed on paper."

"You never got over me choosing history did you?" Alec said, teasing slightly. The subject of Alec's 'boring' choice of degree was old, well trodden ground between them. Perhaps Camille was trying to give him something familiar whilst he was thrust into an unfamiliar situation although he doubt she gave these things much thought.

"Because you should have done art! It's what you're good at, what you love!" Camille sighed. Not _this_ again. Many people claimed they argued like an old married couple. Many people actually _thought_ they were married. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like being married to Alec.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and where will art get me?"

"Probably the same fucking place we are now. We live in a shitty apartment Alec with so much mould on the walls you can't see the original colour. Wake up and smell the piss. It's not like we're rolling in cash because you're studying..." Camille broke off, her mouth forming a small 'o' shape, her green eyes wide and startled. Caught up in their quickly escalating argument, they hadn't even realised that they had arrived. Camille hungrily drank in the lavish surroundings, soaking up the atmosphere. She didn't care that she was standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open in such an amateurish way. Because she had finally arrived. This, this was a freakin' apartment.

Strangely enough, the ceilings were high and vaulted with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the twinkling lights of the city covering the entire length of one wall. From the rafters of the ceiling hung strobe lighting and what she presumed to be glitter or confetti canons just waiting to be primed. The biggest disco ball she'd ever seen was suspended right in the middle of the room casting even more flashing lights around the room.

Somehow, despite being such a humongous space, it was packed with people. A seemingly impenetrable mass of glistening bodies covered the dance floor, all swaying to the hypnotic beat. They formed a vibrant rainbow of all variety of colours and suddenly Alec felt very out of place on his black dress shirt and plain jeans. Glitter seemed to hang suspended in the air, creating a mystical feel. It was helped along by the heady, intoxicating scent and the trance like music. Despite never having danced before in his life, Alec felt himself gravitating towards the dance floor.

"Alec, where are you going?" Camille asked.

"Well I was going to dance but..."

And suddenly he was shy again and he took a few steps back. As if _he_ could ever dance. "Drink?" someone offered. She seemed to have plastic blue pointed ears attached to a royal blue head-band. Camille took four of the little pink fluorescent shots, handing two to Alec. She downed them, one after the other, without even thinking about it whilst Alec eyed his dubiously.

"Are you sure this is...?" He didn't get to finish his sentence as Camille grabbed the glass, forcing it to his lips. Alec had no choice but to swallow the liquid. It tasted like berries. And ethanol, don't forget the ethanol. He winced, spluttering a bit at which Camille laughed.

"It gets better. Trust me," she whispered in his ear. Alec tentatively raised the glass to his lips, hesitating a little before catching Camille's nod and drinking the rest of it.

"Hm," Alec said as he felt the warmth rush through him. "You're right. That one did taste better."

"Told you." Camille smiled knowingly before reaching for his hand. "Dance with me?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes.

"Well, um..." Alec looked at his feet, shuffling nervously. "I don't think I..."

"Alec," she whispered in his ear. "Just relax. Go with the music. Have. Fun."

Alec eventually nodded, taking her hand and trying to forget about all of the little thoughts buzzing around his head as he twirled Camille around. He started out doing it for Camille and vowing to return back to the safety of the bar once she found someone but tonight that didn't happen. Tonight he was laughing and he was dancing and he just wasn't caring. Because, really, who actually gives a shit about crap apart from him?

No-one.

They danced for what felt like hours until Alec felt like he was going to throw up from all the twirling and the alcohol and sat on a sleek, black leather sofa in a secluded corner of the room. Camille was dancing with one of her many friends, who was called something like Woolsey or William or perhaps Scott. She had so many friends, it seemed to Alec.

He sighed, leaning back against the soft leather and shutting his eyes which suddenly felt as heavy as lead. Just for a moment...

* * *

Magnus Bane was bored. And he was bored at his _own_ party for fuck's sake.

"Magnus!"

"Magnus Bane!"

"Magnus?"

Usually he did a lot of dancing, said a little speech, maybe even crowd surfed, being the social butterfly that he apparently was. Not tonight though. Tonight he was tired and hungry and the music was too loud and everyone was drunk but him. Ugh, and they were all just...talking complete shit and all he wanted to do was scream at them all to get the fuck out so that he could actually think for once.

Instead he smiled and he waved, weaving through the sweating bodies that seemed to part like the red sea for him.

"Magnus!"

"Hey Magnus!"

"Bane!"

He'd pretty much hit rock bottom when he started talking to Camille Bellcourt of all people. It's not that he didn't have a whole line of people to talk to, he just couldn't be bothered putting the effort in any more. He would never admit it but Magnus Bane was losing his touch. _I mean disco balls. Really? What was I thinking?_ He was contemplating trying to slip away to spend the rest of the night just cuddling with Chairman Meow in bed but, well, that would be weird. Then Camille had sort of...thrust herself upon him.

"Hi! Magnus!" she squealed, hugging him so tightly to her tiny frame that he could barely breathe and placing sloppy kisses on his cheek.

"Hello...Camillia, is it?" he asked, holding her at arm's length. Her breath reeked of alcohol and, when you weren't really that drunk yourself, it always seemed so much worse. _Why am I not drunk?_ wondered Magnus for a moment and craned his neck to see if there were any trays of drinks in his peripheral vision.

"Camille," she corrected him. He nodded. Of course, Magnus actually knew what her name was. He remembered names perfectly well. He just liked to pretend he didn't. "We met at Will's party. He invited me to yours," she said, inching a little closer to Magnus and attempting to wrap her arms around his neck as she swayed slowly and completely out of time to the upbeat, dance music that was playing. _Jesus, how much shit has this woman drunk?_

He gently detached her arms from around his neck. "Did you come here with anyone?" he asked, more to distract her than because he was actually interested in making conversation. He didn't care who showed up at his party, just as long as people showed up. He desperately looked around for any sort of excuse to ditch her.

"Yeah, my best friend Alec," she giggled. "But he's sleeping. Over there." She pointed to the couches in the corner of the room. Magnus absentmindedly looked over his shoulder to where she was pointing, more because he was actually quite startled that someone could sleep at a party. _Who the hell..._

_Oh._

"Magnus, can I tell you a secret?" She leaned towards him, her eyes wide and sparkling. Magnus was only half listening at this point. He needed to get rid of her. Fast.

"Yeah Camille, maybe later. Look, I've got to...go. Look, here, dance with this nice gentleman." He quickly thrust the nearest human being towards her- awkward, it actually turned out to be a girl with very hairy legs - and merged back into the crowd before the annoying blonde could protest.

It was definitely a lot quieter around where the sofas were huddled in a little cluster. There was only one couple fiercely making out on one and then on the other...

Magnus found himself standing right in front of him - for what reason he did not know - there was something here that Magnus was unwillingly gravitating towards. _So cheesy Magnus_, he scolded himself before smirking and settling himself next to the boy - Alec.

He was completely conked out, for lack of a better word. Such a serene and utterly peaceful look on his face despite the chaos occurring around him. He had a porcelain complexion, sometimes so pale it looked see through. Yet his hair was a deep, bold charcoal black which was half spiked professionally and half mussed from sleep meaning that it would be sticking up adorably at all angles when he woke up. Magnus found himself leaning forwards, pretty much sitting in the boy's lap, so that he could inspect every spidery long eyelash that were casting long shadows across his fine cheekbones. Delicately, he traced the curve of his finger along the strong jaw, so lightly that he probably wouldn't even...

"Stop it," Alec smiled. "Tickles." Magnus quickly retracted the finger, hoping that the boy wouldn't wake up.

Then he opened his eyes.

_Too late. _

* * *

Alec guessed he must have fallen asleep because he was dreaming quite blissfully about stars when he was suddenly jolted awake by a presence near his side. Blearily, he opened his eyes to be met by another pair, with a vertical slit pupil - like a cat. He startled, jumping away. The eyes lit up, paired with an equally feline grin. As Alec became more aware of his surroundings, he realised that this cat like being was actually sort of sitting on him and, well, squashing him.

"You're squashing me," he mumbled, batting feebly at the body on top of him. "So heavy. _Why_ are you sitting on _me_? There's plenty of space over there." He gestured lazily to the rest of the vacant sofa. Alec tended to be grouchy when woken up, more so than usual when he was drunk. He also tended to talk nonsense. Blinking rapidly, he tried to take in his surroundings before noticing that the Cat man was wearing eye liner. And leather. Lot's of it. _Damn, if he doesn't leave soon I'll be in serious trouble,_ thought Alec as he shifted a little uncomfortably.

But the Cat man wasn't leaving and he was...wait, he was laughing? "Why are you laughing?" Alec asked confusedly.

"Because _you_, my dear, are the first person to come to one of my parties dressed all in black, fall asleep and then insinuate that I'm fat. All in one night." Cat man purred.

"I never said you were fat," muttered Alec. "Cats aren't fat."

"And now you're calling me a cat..." The man above him seemed to be trying to contain his laughter now. His body was shaking. "I'm pretty sure cats can be fat too," he pointed out.

Alec didn't think it was very funny though. "I guess. Mine is. But it's a serious matter." He crossed his arms and pouted at which the man released his pent up laughter. "You can't just go around squashing poor unsuspecting strangers to death, no matter if you're a cat or not.."

Cat man eventually managed to contain his laughter to say, "Well if you're a stranger, why are you at _my_ party?"

Alec furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why on earth that seemed so important. _My_ party. "Camille dragged me along," he sighed before accepting that cat man was going to be here for a while. He tugged him closer, nestling in that little crook between shoulder and neck and closing his eyes happily. Cat man was very comfortable.

_What was it he said? My party? Why my party?" _Alec was finding it difficult to process things in his fogged up mind._ My party? _

_Oh._

And then it clicked. _My_ party.

The host of the party was sitting on his lap. Which meant that Magnus Bane was sitting on his lap.

And he'd just called him a fat cat.


	4. Ta-da

**I'm so sorry for the wait! **

* * *

Alec woke up with a mouth that tasted like the bottom of a century old whiskey barrel which was in fact not filled with whiskey at all. He was pretty sure it had vodka and berries and rotten wood and some other rather dubious substances in it.

Naturally, it wasn't particularly pleasant.

Then the pain hit.

It was like being hit by a speeding lorry after being shot in the head by a bullet whilst someone hammers your head with 5 inch nails. Maybe he was being a tad over dramatic.

Alec had never been one for hangovers. He'd endured them like everyone else, popping a few pills and muttering that he would 'never drink again' in that good natured way. Except, for all intents and purposes he intended to fulfil that promise to himself. He wasn't just saying it, he honestly intended to never get drunk again.

Truthfully, he didn't like not knowing what had happened the night before. He figured half the fun is reminiscing in years to come, sharing memories and laughing with friends. How do you do that when you can't remember? He supposed though, that maybe he wouldn't _want_ to remember what he'd done the previous night. Alec was a terrible lightweight and he had intended to never get drunk again. It was going well. He had his books, his cats, his Sherlock episodes. He could have fun without the assistance of alcohol.

_Look at how beautifully well that all went to shit._

Groaning, Alec rolled over. It was then that he realised he was, for all intents and purposes, naked. Butt naked. Not one scrap of clothing naked.

_That's funny_, he thought. _I wonder where my pyjamas are_...

And then two seconds later, he realised that the bed he was in was not his own. He was in a stranger's bed. Naked.

Alec suppressed the urge to let out a head splitting scream but his ever logical mind insisted that it would just make him feel worse. Instead, he settled for heavy, frantic breathing, clutching the yellow covers around him tightly. Yellow. Who the hell buys yellow covers. _Oh my God who the hell else has been on these yellow covers? What am I lying in? Shit, I had sex didn't I? Oh God, oh God, oh God. _

"Jesus, if that's your reaction to your state of undress, it's a good thing you haven't seen the mirror yet."

Alec's head shot up. Perched on a deep purple chaise long opposite the bed, was a man with relatively long, shaggy blonde hair and broad features that looked almost wolffish. He wore a dark green dressing gown that gaped open at the chest revealing a light patch of chest hair. His long legs covered in what looked to be tight black leather trousers were hanging over the edge of the chaise lounge and a cigarette spreading some sort of sweet smoke into the air dangled from his left finger. Alec blushed as he surveyed him coolly.

"Wh-who are you?" Alec squeaked as he drew the covers up to his chin, hiding his crimson chest.

"Woolsey Scott," the man answered curtly. "I would shake your hand if it weren't for the chance of...dubious substances probably still lurking there and quite frankly I can't be bothered."

Alec blinked. He felt the sudden need to introduce himself."I'm..."

"Alexander Lightwood," the man filled in. "Yes, I heard. Mr Bane, your...lover," he said with an amused glint in his eyes, "told me. I'm his manager. He told me to tell you that he had somewhere important to visit and that you were to let yourself out." Wolsey spoke in an utterly disinterested drawl.

Alec, however, was stuck on the words _Mr Bane_ and _lover_.

Last night, he didn't...he couldn't possibly have...with this _Mr Bane. _

Alec tried to cast his mind back, wading through kaleidoscopes of lights and a cacophony of dancing. He remembered dancing with Camille, drinking a lot, falling asleep and waking up, thinking that the man above him resembled a cat and then telling him so...then he drew a blank. He presumed Magnus - yes, that was the cat man's name - must have coaxed more drinks into him and managed to...

_ Damnit_, thought Alec. _How could I be so stupid? To throw it all away on a guy I've never seen before. _He sighed and blinked away the tears that were prickling in the corners of his eyes.

"Pass me a shirt and some pants," he muttered to Woolsey, finding his voice rather hoarse. It only served as yet another piece of evidence of his reckless night.

Woolsey picked one up by the very tips of his fingers, nose wrinkling in disgust as he tossed it over to Alec.

"And some pants," Alec added as he finished doing up the buttons.

Woolsey's eyes widened. "Oh no buddy, ah, ah, ah." He shook his head, blonde strands flying everywhere. "I ain't touching anything that's touched south of the equator. Who do you think I _am_? A _maid_?"

Alec sighed. "Well then leave the room so I can get changed in peace," he snapped, feeling an invisible tether inside of him wearing thinner and thinner until it was just one or two threads.

Magnus' manager got up, muttering something under his breath. He stubbed the now finished cigarette on the beautiful chaise lounge, something Alec doubted the owner would be too happy about, and left, slamming the door behind him.

Alec got changed quickly as he found he wanted to send as least time as possible in Magnus Bane's bedroom. At least, he presumed it was Magnus' bedroom by the electric blue vanity and crazy eruption of clothes spilling from the wardrobe. _Oh God, please let it be Magnus' room_, he thought. The idea that he'd lost his virginity on some randomer's bed made it even worse to Alec. For some strange reason, it being Magnus' room made it fractionally better.

After going into the bathroom and raiding the well-stocked cupboards of pills (he probably took too many but at a time like this he couldn't bring himself to care), he made his way back in the same direction as Woolsey.

The living room/foyer/kitchen area looked...exactly how Alec felt. Worn, scattered with a glistening coating of smashed bottles and used glitter, stained with drinks, sticky and trodden on. Everything thing that had once shone so brightly now looked dull and Alec almost let out a bitter laugh at what a mirage everything was. The facade of Bane, now revealed in the morning light which didn't quite hit the glitter right, wrong angle maybe. The rubbish that no longer served a purpose was now being shoved into black bin bags by maids. This was the reality that night hid so well.

Alec moved on quickly.

Woolsey was sitting at the breakfast bar, reading an assortment of newspapers and magazines with a fresh cigarette halfway to his lips and what looked strangely like a monocle hanging from one eye.

He looked up as Alec walked in. "Huh," he said. "I didn't peg you for a top."

Alec was sure that he was blushing right down to his bones and the very tips of his hair. He immediately changed track from the kitchen to the door leading out of the apartment, thinking back to when he'd come through the very same door with Camille, back when this whole mess had started.

"Whoa there," Woolsey called out. He dumped his still lit cigarette next to the newspaper which Alec didn't really think was very safe. Then again, it seemed like he'd ditched his 'safe Alec' routine last night and what did he care if Magnus Bane's building burnt to a crisp? He would rather like to sit and roast marshmallows on the fire.

"Where are you going?" asked Woolsey as he pulled Alec away from the door.

"Home," Alec said before wrenching it open and marching determinedly down the stairs.

Woolsey looked around nervously as he followed. It was the first time Alec had seen him with anything other than careless disinterest on his face. Suddenly he looked younger, more vulnerable in the musty yellow light of the hallway outside the apartment.

"Look, why don't you come back inside. I can give you Magnus' personal number so that you guys can keep in..."

"I don't want to _keep in touch_!" Alec sneered. "I don't want to have anything to do with Magnus again. I don't _do_ this." He sighed and pressed the heels of his palms to his head. "I don't do this," he repeated softly.

"Look, this whole thing was just some stupid mistake. Tell your _client_ that I believe it would be best if we both just move on from the incident. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like to finally go home." Alec proceeded down the next flight of stairs.

"Look Alec, you really shouldn't..." He heard Woolsey calling out from above him but he ignored the protests as he wrenched the door open to dazzling sunlight.

It was rather a shock from the musty air and low light of the hall and Alec blinked rapidly a few times to adjust to the sudden invasion of light.

It was only when the black spots started to clear from his vision that he realised it was cloudy outside.

The brilliant white wasn't sunlight.

It was cameras. A sea of cameras and microphones swarming before him, rushing towards him like a tidal wave and blocking his exit. Click, click, click. "Over here!"

"What's your name?"

"What is your relationship with Mr Bane?"

Alec felt faint. And he realised then, that the everything hadn't even _begun_ to go to shit until that moment. The tether inside him snapped in time with the clicks of the cameras.

Woolsey was now behind him, looking worriedly out at all the cameras.

"Ta-da," he muttered weakly, the click, click, clap of the cameras like the drum roll to a bad joke. Woolsey bared a grin. Alec could see his arm creeping towards his shoulder. "Just smile for the..."

_I hate Magnus Bane_, thought Alec as he held up two fingers in what was definitely _not_ a peace sign to the cameras before diving underneath their feet to make his great escape.

Yes, 'Safe Alec' was not going to be making a re-appearance anytime soon, it seemed.

Ta-da indeed.


	5. The Wrath of Church

The apartment was pitch black as Alec stumbled in, his arms brimming with glossed pages and ice cream.

"Where have you been?" The voice rung out coldly in the apartment and suddenly Alec felt as if he was in some huge warehouse. He shivered. It was as if he'd stepped into some parallel universe; it was a hot, sunny day outside.

A light suddenly flickered on, the harsh click filling the silence.

Alec found himself facing Camille as she spun around dramatically in the arm chair she was lounging in, aiming the lamp in his face with one hand. In the other, she was stroking Church who didn't look very pleased with the affection.

Alec winced and ducked from the bright light and suddenly had the impression that he was in one of those bad cop films.

"Out," he answered evasively under the white hot glare of two sets of eyes (the cat's and Camille's). "I've been out." He nodded unconvincingly.

"You stole my line," Camille drawled with a small smile. "This is certainly a...role reversal," she purred.

It was.

Alec felt like he was in a strange version of Freaky Friday. He was usually the one to sit in the armchair, with the cat, in his pyjamas, waiting for Camille to come home.

"I'll ask this once more," Camille said. Her tone was menacing but there was a playful glint in her eyes. "And God damnit, if you don't answer it properly, I'll deploy my...other methods."

Alec eyed the blackout curtains blocking even one tiny grain of light from entering the apartment. He cursed the fact, not for the first time, that he had chosen to room with someone doing a theatre major. He could feel the condensation from the ice cream tub soaking his shirt and the apartment was so stuffy with no windows open that he was beginning to sweat.

"Where. Have. You. Been." In between each word Camille placed a stroke to Church's ears. Alec could practically see steam bursting form the poor cat's ears at this point.

"Where you left me," Alec replied evenly. "Can I put this in the fridge now?" He held up the assortment of ice cream. "When ice cream melts it's just...cream which sucks."

A small smile danced at the edges of Camille's lips. She rolled her eyes and flung her head. "Go on then," she sighed.

Alec quickly scurried over to the tiny kitchen. He practically stuck his head in the heavenly glow of the fridge, revelling in how soothing the icy air was. "Did you get cookie dough?" Camille called from the living.

Alec rolled his eyes. "No, I got broccoli flavoured. It's new. What do you think Cam? We've both liked the same ice cream for 5 years. Hell, everyone likes cookie dough."

"Hey, don't get snippy with me. You're not done here mister." She glared and gestured to the disused wooden chair that she'd placed opposite her.

"What's with the interrogation Camille?" Alec asked as he sat down on the creaky chair. He reached to unbutton his collar, the boiling room getting to him.

"You would do the same if..." she broke off. Her red lips suddenly rounded into a little 'o' shape.

"Oh my God, what the hell are you wearing?"

"What do you..."

And suddenly Alec realised that he was not in the black shirt he was originally wearing. Far from it, actually. Instead, his fingers found a diamanté, neon blue, practically see through top.

"Oh darling," Camille said, a smile stretching her lips. A small burst of giggles escaped her lips, so loud in the stillness of the apartment. She started rocking back and forth with laughter which aggravated Church. Alec could see his 'I will cut you bitch' face forming.

"How the hell...did you manage to put it on backwards?" Camille gasped.

And that was when Church snapped and lunged at Alec.

* * *

The jeans weren't his either.

At least, Alec couldn't remember purchasing bright green jeans with MB bedazzled on the ass.

After thoroughly disentangling himself from Church, Alec had returned to his room to change / put balm and a Mr Bump plaster on the tiny scratches from the cat's small nails. Camille had rolled her eyes at his feeble excuse. He'd returned in his usual jeans and sweater ensemble. Camille was still brushing tears from her eyes.

Alec sighed and crossed his arms as he eyed the tattered remains of the blue shirt and the jeans lying in ruins on the floor in front of him. A sewing kit lay unopened next to him.

Alec had experienced The Wrath of Church before and had become quite good (not that he'd admit it or anything) at sewing. Wool and thread he could work with. Gossamer fabric and diamanté studs were a whole different kettle of fish though.

"I thought they were a bit snug when I put them on," he noted absently as he held up the jeans in front of him.

"_Snug_? How about _bright green?" _Camille snorted._ "_How did you not _notice_?" Another peal of giggles fell out of her mouth.

A wounded expression crossed Alec's face. "You said you wouldn't laugh at me anymore. Not when I can't help it." He pouted.

"I know sweetie but you weren't actually drunk per say...

"It was very pressurising circumstances!" Alec practically screeched (again). "I had a banging headache."

"Poor wittle Alec had his first hangover," Camille cooed.

Alec chose to ignore that, the only sign that she'd said anything at all a reddening of the cheeks. He continued: "And there was a strange man watching me..."

"Woolsey?" Camille asked.

Alec nodded vigorously. "How does everyone know these things?" Alec snapped irritably as he tried to poke the thread through the needle he was holding. Camille tossed a magazine she's been reading at his head.

"Anyway, he was smoking and there was this weirdly sweet smoke everywhere. It was very disconcerting. I was caught entirely unawares."

The young girl laughed suddenly, imagining Alec and Woolsey Scott. "Ok so you might have been a little high." Alec's eyes widened. "No harm done," Camille added with a shrug as she patted his head.

Alec groaned and let his head fall back against the couch with a thud. "Why didn't you tell me he was famous?"

"I kind of did," Camille said with a sheepish expression.

"Not _this_ famous!" Alec snapped, holding up one of the glossy magazines plastered with Magnus' face that he'd picked up on his way home.

"Well, if you hadn't treated them with such disdain, you might not be in this situation," Camille said with a sniff. "If it's the boob jobs that put you off..." She pointed to where it said in a bright, bubbly caption 'Kim's bodged boobs!' "I can easily help you overcome that fear." She shimmied a little.

Alec shuddered.

Boob jobs came above guy liner on his list of evils. Especially when even _he_ could tell that Kim's left was _way_ bigger than her right. _How does she not constantly keel over?_ he wondered.

"Do you reckon he'll want the clothes back?" Alec asked. "The jeans are salvageable but the top..." He eyed the few strips of fabric left over from The Wrath of Church.

He held up the jeans which were, on closer inspection, actually very tight. There was only one tiny rip near the knee. Alec was wondering if he could simply get away with saying that it was one of those artful, intentional rips that he'd never quite understood (why buy damaged clothes at ridiculous prices when you can buy perfectly good, new ones at the supermarket?) when suddenly he noticed something. There was a small strip of paper escaping from the back pocket.

Alec's heart did a strange little flip.

He quickly scrambled for it, realising it was a note. There, in neat cursive script, was an address

_1310 Madison Ave. _

_5.00. _

_Monday 7th April _

_P.S I want my clothes back. _

_MB _

"Damnit," Alec muttered under his breath. "Cammie, he wants his clothes back." He picked up the scraps of fabric and held them together, as if by sheer determination he could will them to knit back together. The fabric remained limp and lifeless and altogether broken in his hands.

"Do you happen to have a spare $700?" Camille asked, her eyes holding that dazed quality she only got when near celebrities or expensive stuff (usually both at once which was a _nightmare_).

"No," Alec scoffed. "Why?"

"Because that's how much it's going to cost to replace the shirt," Camille said, leaning over so that the iPad she was holding was in Alec's direct line of vision.

Sure enough, there it was with an understated $700 sign underneath (one of those 'minimalist' websites, ironically). Oh, and it was reduced from $1000, how lovely.

Alec flopped onto the floor in a star fish shape, limbs spread all in opposite directions.

Camille was making small squeaky noises that she only made whilst shopping. "I suppose it does make sense," she said after a while. "The Banes do own most of New York. We're probably inadvertently renting this apartment from them."

Alec sighed. "Seriously, you couldn't have mentioned this to me before."

"Seriously," Camille mocked in a silly voice which he supposed was meant to an imitation of his voce. "20 years of celibacy and you go and blow it on _him_ of all people. I thought you were actually a monk or a priest at one point Alec. You couldn't have kept it in your damn pants for _one_ night? Would have saved you $700 dollars."

"I didn't know that. At. The. Time," Alec growled before throwing a cushion in Camille's face. "Anyway, I refuse to lose $700 dollars."

Camille looked up from where she was drooling over the latest Armani collection. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"_We_," Alec replied with a dangerous smile.

"Oh God."

"Are going to _make_ Magnus Bane a shirt. Or buy a similar one from H&M. Whichever shop we pass first."

Camille sighed. She saw the fleeting chance of another invitation to one of Bane's exclusive parties fading further and further into the distance along with every shred of respect she had. _God, H&M. How the hell do I even get into these situations?_ She glared at Alec.

"Well, there's my reputation ruined. Oh God, I'm going to return to Magnus Bane a hand crafted, ten dollar shirt. Kill me now."

"Join the club of social failures," Alec replied grimly. "This morning I flipped off about 20 reporters whilst wearing neon green pants and a see-through top backwards which was later destroyed by my cat. And the first thing I was worried about was my _mom_ seeing the picture. Now, less wallowing, more action."

The sound of their high five was perfectly in time with the click of the printing press currently painting Alec's face onto a thousand magazine covers.

Meanwhile, somewhere in New York City, Magnus Bane smiled into the sunshine.

Someone had finally captured his attention.

And they didn't even know it.


End file.
